After crossing the river, traveling less than three days would bring them to Gaotou Camp, the last town before Black Water Swamp. The caravan had calculated their time precisely, arriving in town just as darkness fell, planning to rest properly for the night, stock up on provisions and water, then depart at dawn.

No one in the caravan except Old Qi had ever been to this town before, but even as Old Qi led the first camel through the town center, he walked with deeply furrowed brows.

The town was truly dilapidated. Looking around, not a single building was in good condition—either doors were missing half their panels or roofs had collapsed on one side. The main road running straight from the south to the north of town was eerily deserted without a soul in sight. Occasionally, a few wild dogs would appear but instead of fleeing from people, they bared their teeth with gleaming eyes.

In the caravan, only Chang Yu’er rode a small black horse. Watching the dust devils whirling on the ground, she felt frightened and moved closer to Liu Heita’s camel, whispering, “Brother, why does this place make me feel so uneasy?”

Liu Heita casually grinned, “Don’t worry, it’s just a run-down town. You don’t travel much, but if you’ve been through places struck by famine, where entire county towns are abandoned, that’s truly frightening.”

Old Qi turned back and said, “Miss Chang, there’s no need to be afraid. This used to be the necessary route to Black Water Swamp. Since no more merchant caravans attempt to cross the swamp, it has gradually fallen into ruin. My concern is that the inn might have closed down too, in which case we’d have nowhere to get supplies.”

Just as he finished speaking, Gu Pingyuan pointed ahead.

“Aren’t those inn lanterns?”

Indeed, two large red lanterns stood out strikingly in the early evening darkness. The lantern on the left read “Friends from Afar,” and the right one read “What a Delight.” As they approached, an attendant who had heard the camel hooves came out to meet them. Gu Pingyuan looked at the inn’s sign.

“The One Path Inn!”

“That’s right, the One Path Inn. Going forward, there’s only one road.” This attendant was rather fierce, nothing like the bowing, smiling attendants at other establishments. Instead, he wore a stern expression as if the caravan owed him two hundred strings of cash. When Old Qi asked him two questions, he’d answer one; ask one question, he’d answer half.

“Oh, esteemed guests, please don’t take offense. Our proprietor just has that temperament—he doesn’t know how to properly receive guests. He used to be a cook, and you see, the inn barely makes money, all the attendants have left, so he’s out here helping you with the camels.” As they entered the courtyard, a heavily made-up, horse-faced woman emerged from the building—clearly someone who would answer ten questions when asked just one.

Old Qi ignored the man and asked the woman, “I remember this inn being run by an elderly couple, wasn’t it?”

“My goodness, how long ago was that? This inn was taken over by my husband and me, thinking we’d provide convenience to passing merchant caravans, but gentlemen simply don’t come this way anymore. If you had arrived a month later, the inn might have closed completely.”

“Then we’re fortunate to have come at the right time. May I ask your honorable surname, madam innkeeper?”

“My surname is Shi, and that’s my husband, surname Dong.”

Chang Yu’er found this amusing—this grotesquely ugly woman was “Dong Shi,” truly fitting the saying “Dong Shi imitating a frown,” referring to an ugly woman trying to look beautiful.

“Dong Shi” glanced at Chang Yu’er, seeing she was a bright, pretty young woman, and knowing she herself paled in comparison, immediately disliked her. Ignoring Chang Yu’er, she scanned the caravan until her eyes fell on the scholarly-looking Gu Pingyuan, and immediately approached him, saying, “You must be the boss, what shall I call you?”

“Oh, my surname is Gu.” Gu Pingyuan couldn’t stand her overpowering perfume and stepped slightly backward. “The caravan needs provisions, the people need dry rations and clean water. We’ll stay here for the night and depart in the morning.”

“Of course, we have everything. I’ll have my husband take care of it. Everything will be ready by early morning, absolutely no delays.” “Dong Shi” said with a smile, deliberately moving closer to the camels and reaching out to touch the cargo bags.

“Hey, that’s our merchandise, don’t touch it.” Liu Heita was watching the cargo very strictly and used his horsewhip to push away the woman’s hand.

“Dong Shi” nodded with an embarrassed smile. “Then I’ll prepare food for everyone. Excuse me. Husband, arrange accommodations for our guests, and don’t forget to heat water for them.” With that, she turned and entered the inner room.

The inn wasn’t large. The attendants had to squeeze together, three to five in a room, and even the storage rooms were cleared out, just barely providing enough space. Gu Pingyuan and Liu Heita each got a room, as did Old Qi and Sun Erliang. When it came to Chang Yu’er’s turn, “Dong Shi” ran out.

“Little sister, those beds that men sleep in aren’t suitable for a young lady. You’d better sleep in my room, and my husband and I will move to a guest room.”

Chang Yu’er already found the rooms unclean and thought the innkeeper’s room would certainly be better than a guest room, so she eagerly agreed. With her consent, no one else had any objections.

After everyone was settled and had finished eating, the night had grown dark, with some of the sleepier attendants already snoring. “Dong Shi’s” husband, the cook surnamed Dong, entered the guest room and upon seeing his wife, frowned and complained, “What were you thinking, having me prepare fodder overnight? These are clearly wealthy patrons—why not find a way to keep them for two more days?”

“Wealthy patrons? Stop dreaming. A few bundles of fodder and some inn fees make them wealthy patrons? You really have shallow vision.” “Dong Shi” rolled her eyes at him.

“You’re not thinking of… there are too many of them, we can’t do this!” Cook Dong was startled, then lowered his voice.

The inn was actually half-legitimate, half-criminal. The couple never let a lone wealthy target escape. But Gu Pingyuan’s group was a large caravan with many people, and Cook Dong worried that rather than catching a sheep, they might break their own teeth in the attempt.

“Pig brain, there’s nothing worth taking from this caravan. You can smell from a distance they’re carrying medicinal herbs—even if we got them, how would we sell them?”

Cook Dong was confused. “Then… what do you want?”

“Haven’t you been thinking about leaving this petty business and joining Bandit King Liao at Black Crow Ridge, a hundred miles away?”

“I’ve been talking about that for a long time, but you didn’t agree.”

“That’s because we didn’t have a good gift to present. Would you go up the mountain just to be a lowly bandit? I won’t do that.”

Seeing her husband still didn’t understand, she pointed and explained, “Don’t you see there’s a little flirt among them? She’s quite a fresh beauty. Bandit King Liao lost his wife three months ago, and now he lacks nothing except a beautiful wife to rule alongside him.”

Cook Dong suddenly understood and gave a thumbs up. “Wife, you’re brilliant! This plan will work. But how do we get her out?”

“I called you pig-brained, and you really are dumber than a pig.” “Dong Shi” pointed downstairs. “Why do you think I arranged for her to stay in the room closest to the main gate? I’ve already loosened the window latch. When everyone’s asleep, you climb in, use knock-out powder on her, and no one will know. We’ll abandon this worthless inn, take our valuables and silver, hitch up the carriage and head straight for Black Crow Ridge. If no one discovers her missing within half an hour, we’re home free.”

“Good!” Cook Dong smiled crookedly.

The caravan members had been traveling for nearly ten days and were all sleeping soundly, finally having a secure place to rest. By custom, the caravan always arranged for someone to keep watch at night, but Cook Dong had used two bottles of good wine to lure the attendant guarding the front courtyard to the back kitchen and get him drunk. This left the front gate completely unguarded. As for the attendants watching the medicinal herbs in the back courtyard, they never imagined such trouble would occur at the front.

Just after the third watch of the night, the couple quietly hitched up their carriage and removed the bar from the main gate. With everything prepared, they pried open the window to Chang Yu’er’s room. Cook Dong pushed against the window frame, leapt lightly, and landed inside.

Chang Yu’er was exhausted after days of hard travel and slept sweetly, completely unaware that a villain had entered her room. Cook Dong looked at her by moonlight—she was clear-browed and bright-eyed with flushed cheeks, truly a sleeping beauty. He thought to himself that it was a shame to offer her to Bandit King Liao to torment, but after rendering such a great service, he would surely become deputy chief.

As he daydreamed about becoming deputy chief, he took out a cloth sprinkled with knock-out powder. Just as he was about to act, he suddenly thought: once he carried her out, she would be right under his wife’s nose, and wouldn’t it be a waste not to touch such a beautiful woman? With this idea, his lustful heart stirred, and he boldly reached under the blanket, moving toward Chang Yu’er’s chest.

This was a blunder born of lust clouding his judgment. If he had knocked out Chang Yu’er first, he could have done whatever he wanted with her helpless body. But he didn’t do this—instead going straight to assault her. As soon as his hand entered the blanket, Chang Yu’er, no matter how soundly she was sleeping, couldn’t help but feel it. Opening her eyes to find a dark figure bent over by the window, she was scared out of her wits.

“Ah!” Chang Yu’er had only cried out half a sound when Cook Dong, reacting quickly, seeing the girl was awake, raised his hand and pressed the drugged cloth over her mouth and nose. Chang Yu’er tried to pull it away but couldn’t move it. Soon her body went limp, and she passed out.

“How did you wake her up?” “Dong Shi” stuck her head through the window, dissatisfied.

“Alright, alright, stop talking and let’s get her out quickly.” Cook Dong wrapped Chang Yu’er in a large blanket, and the couple passed her between them, about to load her onto the carriage.

This truly affirmed “Dong Shi’s” words—once the carriage left town, even if the caravan discovered the abduction, trying to pursue would be like a fool’s dream because they wouldn’t know which direction to search. Reporting to officials would be useless; local officials feared bandits like tigers and wouldn’t lead efforts to attack a mountain stronghold on behalf of commoners. Moreover, given Chang Yu’er’s character, she would surely resist dishonor and would likely lose her life at Black Crow Ridge.

At this critical moment, when Chang Yu’er’s fate hung in the balance, a savior appeared.

Gu Pingyuan hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for days, including this night. He was constantly pondering whether they could cross Black Water Swamp, and until he saw the swamp with his own eyes, he couldn’t sleep soundly. So despite Liu Heita’s thunderous snoring in the next bed, Gu Pingyuan was still dozing fitfully, waking three times from each dream.

Chang Yu’er’s half-cry wasn’t heard by others, but Gu Pingyuan caught it faintly—first because he wasn’t sleeping deeply, and second because Chang Yu’er’s room was directly below his. After hearing it, he initially thought the attendant guarding the front door would handle any issues. But then, thinking of Chang Yu’er downstairs, he felt uneasy and quietly got up, opened the door, and looked down.

The inn’s second floor had an exposed corridor connecting the rooms, so Gu Pingyuan could see the entire front courtyard from the railing. By the light of a dim lantern, he saw at a glance that something was wrong. In that split second, half of Chang Yu’er’s body was already being loaded onto the carriage—once she was in and the horse galloped away, catching up would be uncertain.

It was fortunate that Gu Pingyuan was the one who saw this—someone else might have shouted and called for help, and by the time everyone gathered and ran downstairs, the carriage would have vanished. With quick thinking, Gu Pingyuan spotted two braziers nearby with copper kettles for guests to heat water. He grabbed one and hurled it at the horse hitched to the carriage.

The target wasn’t small and wasn’t hard to hit. The kettle and the water inside weighed over ten pounds together. The horse immediately startled, kicking up its hind legs, and Cook Dong hurriedly rushed forward to grab the reins.

In this brief moment, Gu Pingyuan turned back to wake Liu Heita—though “wake” isn’t quite right; Gu Pingyuan used an oil lamp stick to stab him hard, and even the soundest sleeper couldn’t withstand that.

“Hey, hey, what’s happening?” Liu Heita jolted awake, sitting up in pain.

“This is a trap—someone in the courtyard is trying to kidnap your sister!” Gu Pingyuan explained the situation in the fewest words, then turned and ran downstairs, shouting as he went, “Thieves! Everyone get up!”

Though Liu Heita was a rough man, he was extremely protective of his family. Hearing this, all sleepiness vanished. Bare-chested, he pulled out his nine-section chain whip, didn’t even use the stairs, but took two or three steps from the room to the corridor, looked down with bulging eyes, and shouted, “Bastards!” then leapt directly from the second floor into the courtyard. By the time Gu Pingyuan ran down, Liu Heita was already in the courtyard.

The horse wasn’t severely startled, and Cook Dong managed to calm it down with a few tugs, but it was too late. The caravan members, though slow to react, had all awakened and were emerging from their rooms. Add to that the big dark man in the courtyard with a weapon in hand, and Cook Dong knew the situation was lost. He leapt onto the horse, and “Dong Shi,” also quick-witted, flung Chang Yu’er to the ground, climbed into the carriage, and shouted, “Run!”

As the wheels turned and the carriage rushed toward the front gate, Liu Heita stepped forward, swinging his whip at the carriage. He struck it, collapsing half of the wooden carriage box, but missed “Dong Shi” by a little, giving the black-hearted couple a terrible fright. By the time Liu Heita attempted a second swing, the carriage was racing away, beyond the reach of his whip.

Liu Heita roared in anger, wanting to fetch a camel to give chase, but Old Qi, who had rushed over at the commotion, stopped him.

“Don’t pursue desperate enemies, don’t pursue desperate enemies—quickly, go check on your sister!”

Chang Yu’er wasn’t seriously hurt. Traveling away from home, she naturally wouldn’t sleep in her undergarments, but her clothes weren’t appropriate for others to see. Gu Pingyuan, seeing more and more attendants gathering, took off his outer garment to cover Chang Yu’er. Old Qi, recognizing she had been drugged, poured some cold water on her face, and soon Chang Yu’er regained consciousness.

After understanding what had happened, she burst into tears with a “wah,” half from shock and half from shame.

“Alright, alright, everyone back to work. Load the cargo; we can’t stay here long. The caravan departs immediately.” Old Qi, with his extensive experience, sent someone to find the drunk attendant in the back kitchen, counted all the people and goods, and confirmed there were no losses. But he worried that Cook Dong might return with others for revenge and decided to set off at once.

“What did those two bastards want with my sister?” Liu Heita asked with bulging eyes. He had escorted Chang Yu’er back to her room and stood guard at the door, refusing to move.

Gu Pingyuan also had a somber face. “Who knows what they were planning—perhaps to sell her into slavery.”

“If it weren’t for Master Gu’s alertness, Miss Chang would have…” Sun Erliang had seen abducted women before—they either ended up sold to brothels or married off to brutes, their circumstances invariably miserable.

Liu Heita grew more frightened the more he thought about it. If Chang Yu’er had been lost, her father Chang Si would surely go mad, and he himself couldn’t go on living. Thinking of this, he fell to his knees before Gu Pingyuan with a thud.

“Brother Gu, I truly owe you so much. I kowtow to you.”

Gu Pingyuan quickly helped him up. “No, no, brother, that’s too formal. I just happened to be there at the right time. If you hadn’t been snoring so loudly that I couldn’t sleep, I wouldn’t have been able to save Miss Chang.” This comment brought smiles to everyone’s tense faces.

But Gu Pingyuan’s smile disappeared instantly as he asked Old Qi, “Master Qi, when someone in a caravan breaks the rules while traveling, what should be done?”

Old Qi stroked his short beard and replied, “It depends on the offense. Betraying the caravan is the greatest taboo—that requires cutting off a finger and expulsion. Few dare to commit such an offense. As for gambling, visiting prostitutes, fighting and causing trouble—the punishment varies according to severity. Serious cases result in expulsion; minor ones mean deduction of travel pay.”

“What about drinking and neglecting duties?” With Gu Pingyuan’s question, everyone understood what he meant.

“Sigh, in this case, the punishment is up to Master Gu. Though I’m the head attendant, this time the caravan has the goods owner traveling with us, so I can’t make all the decisions.” Old Qi knew about the attendant’s family situation. He knew that drinking and neglecting duties, nearly causing danger to the goods owner, was a serious offense worthy of expulsion from the caravan. But unable to bring himself to say it directly, he passed the decision to Gu Pingyuan.

“Bring him here.” Gu Pingyuan wanted to resolve this matter before the caravan departed and had someone wake the drunk attendant.

The attendant wasn’t yet twenty years old. This was his first journey with a caravan to Mongolia, and he never imagined he would cause such trouble. He was terrified, his body shaking like chaff in the wind.

“Your duty was to guard the front gate, but you drank and neglected your responsibilities, breaking caravan rules. Do you admit your error?” Gu Pingyuan hadn’t expected the attendant to be so young, similar in age to his own younger brother, and his heart softened.

“Yes, yes, yes, I know I was wrong. I’ll never dare do it again. Please… please, Master Gu, spare me this once.” The young attendant’s words stumbled over each other.

“Old Master, what should be done according to the rules?” With Gu Pingyuan’s question, Old Qi had to answer.

“According to the rules, neglecting duties and endangering the goods owner calls for expulsion from the caravan.”

All the attendants were shocked upon hearing this. Caravans face constant dangers in their travels, and it’s the rules that allow them to overcome mountains and cross rivers. Once someone is expelled from a caravan for breaking rules, no other caravan in the province would dare employ them—essentially blacklisting them from the caravan business forever.

“No, no!” The guilty attendant’s face instantly turned as white as paper. He crawled forward half a step on his knees, clutching Old Qi’s thigh. “Manager Qi, you know how difficult things are at home. My blind mother pawned our old house just to prepare my travel outfit, waiting for me to return with my travel pay. If I’m sent back, it would kill her! I’m begging you, Manager Qi, please spare me just this once!” The young man was sobbing with tears and mucus streaming down his face.

“Xiao Gao.” Old Qi called him by name. “It’s not that I don’t want to spare you. First, this time we have the goods owner traveling with the caravan. Where we go and how we get there is up to me, but everything else must follow the goods owner’s instructions. Second, you nearly caused harm to the goods owner’s young lady. How can I plead for you, hmm?”

He turned to face Gu Pingyuan: “Master Gu, please handle this as you see fit. Given his offense, even the harshest punishment wouldn’t be excessive.”

Everyone turned their gaze toward Gu Pingyuan, who frowned in thought for a moment. In his heart, he was reluctant to punish the attendant—first out of pity for his poverty and elderly mother, and second because as a scholar by nature, he found it difficult to hear cries of distress.

However, Gu Pingyuan also knew that if he didn’t enforce discipline now, everyone might follow this young attendant’s example, thinking they could get away with mistakes. There was still a difficult journey to Mongolia ahead, and if morale deteriorated, it could be even more dangerous than crossing Black Water Swamp.

“They say scholars have soft hearts, but once in power, they can be crueler than butchers. If this hardheartedness could be directed toward proper pursuits, such as business, it might not be a bad thing.” This was a lesson Gu Pingyuan had gained from his conversations with everyone at Dry Water River. Thinking of this, Gu Pingyuan forced himself to harden his heart and asked in a low voice: “Since you admit your mistake, I won’t lecture you further. But transgressions must be punished, or else how can I maintain authority? I’ll ask you one question: do you accept punishment or beating?”

Xiao Gao raised his head, staring at Gu Pingyuan in bewilderment.

Without waiting for him to ask, Gu Pingyuan said directly: “If you accept punishment, according to caravan rules, you’ll be expelled.”

Before he finished speaking, Xiao Gao was already shaking his head desperately.

“As for accepting a beating, you’ll receive ten lashes with a camel whip as a warning to others. Choose for yourself.”

“I… I accept the beating,” he said.

“Xiao Gao, think carefully—these ten lashes aren’t easy to endure,” Sun Erliang warned from the side. The camel whip wasn’t an ordinary soft whip but was made from ten-year-old rattan soaked in tung oil for a full year, making it extremely flexible yet firm. Normally, just a light flick against a camel’s body was enough to make it break into a run. A hard lash could drive even a massive beast like a camel into a frenzy of pain.

“I’ve made up my mind. I cannot be expelled from the caravan—I’d rather be beaten to death,” Xiao Gao seemed determined.

“Fine. This is your choice. If you later harbor resentment against the caravan or speak ill of the managers because of this beating, don’t blame me for being unforgiving.” Gu Pingyuan said sternly, then ordered, “Tie him to that large poplar tree over there.”

Two men came forward, bound Xiao Gao’s shoulders and back, made him hug the tree, and tied his wrists in front with hemp rope. They stripped off his upper garment, exposing his bare back.

Liu Heita came forward, furiously ready to strike, but Gu Pingyuan called out “Wait.” He still felt compassion, knowing that Liu Heita was angry and heavy-handed, fearing he might seriously injure Xiao Gao.

Gu Pingyuan took the camel whip from Liu Heita’s hand and silently passed it to Sun Erliang. Old Qi stepped forward and patted Sun Erliang’s shoulder, with the men understanding each other without words.

Sun Erliang understood that Xiao Gao had brought this upon himself, especially since he had chosen the beating over expulsion. So he took the whip without much hesitation and, though not using his full strength, certainly applied seven or eight tenths of it, bringing the whip down with a “crack” onto Xiao Gao’s back.

Xiao Gao let out an agonized howl that made everyone watching shudder. Several who were usually playful and careless about following caravan discipline felt their hearts pounding. A camel’s hide is ten times thicker than human skin—if camels can’t bear the pain, how could a human? Xiao Gao’s back split open with a thin, long gash, immediately streaming with blood; the whip had cut deep into his flesh.

Gu Pingyuan was also startled, not expecting the whip to be so brutal. By the fifth lash, Xiao Gao’s cries no longer sounded human. Gu Pingyuan exchanged glances with Old Qi, who nodded, stepped forward, and turned to Gu Pingyuan: “Master Gu, he’s suffered enough. For the sake of my old face, please spare him the remaining five lashes.”

“Hmm…” Gu Pingyuan pretended to frown. Old Qi turned and barked, “What are you all staring at? Come forward and plead for him!”

“Master Gu, please spare Xiao Gao!”

“Master Gu, I’ll watch him for you and guarantee this kid won’t touch a drop of alcohol again!” As everyone crowded around pleading in a clamor, Gu Pingyuan let out a long breath.

“Very well, untie him.”

When Xiao Gao knelt on the ground again, he would have collapsed if not for people supporting him on both sides.

“Listen, these five lashes aren’t forgiven—they’re postponed at Old Qi and everyone’s request. If you break the rules again, not only will you be expelled from the caravan, but you’ll also receive the remaining lashes.” Gu Pingyuan said sternly.

“Xiao Gao won’t dare make mistakes again.” Xiao Gao was truly remarkable; after regaining some strength, he gritted his teeth and knelt upright as he answered.

“Good, since that’s the case, I’ll let bygones be bygones.” Saying this, Gu Pingyuan looked toward Liu Heita. Chang Yu’er had nearly suffered greatly, and Liu Heita was still furious. If he caused trouble for Xiao Gao along the journey, it wouldn’t be good.

Liu Heita was straightforward; seeing Xiao Gao beaten so severely, his anger had already dissipated. He stepped forward and helped Xiao Gao up.

“You young fellow… well, let’s do this: I like drinking too. Once we’ve delivered the goods and received payment, I’ll treat you to drinks—I won’t stop until you’re completely drunk.”

“Yes,” Xiao Gao answered through his pain, and everyone finally relaxed.

Seeing the matter resolved, Gu Pingyuan ordered someone to find medicine for Xiao Gao’s wounds, entrusted the remaining matters to Old Qi and Sun Erliang, then entered Chang Yu’er’s room with Liu Heita.

Upon entering, they found Chang Yu’er already fully dressed, hands resting on her knees, sitting on the bed facing the small oil lamp on the table, lost in thought.

Liu Heita was rough by nature and didn’t know how to comfort his sister. He secretly nudged Gu Pingyuan. Gu Pingyuan had to speak up: “Miss Chang, the caravan is about to depart. We still have more than half the journey ahead, surely with many more dangers. It’s quite inconvenient for a young woman to travel with the caravan. Perhaps I should assign two attendants to escort you back home. What do you think?”

“Yes, Brother Gu is right. I think so too, sister, you should go back,” Liu Heita nodded repeatedly in agreement.

Chang Yu’er was outwardly gentle but inwardly strong. She had already calmed herself. Seeing their concern for her, she stood up and even managed a forced smile.

“Brother, don’t worry about me. I’ll just be more careful from now on. Besides, the villains didn’t succeed this time, did they? With you here, what do I have to fear?”

Liu Heita waved his hand, not daring to take credit for this: “Sister, we really owe Brother Gu for this one. If he hadn’t discovered it in time, startled the horse, and woken us all up, once that carriage had left the courtyard, we would have had no way to pursue. I would have had to kill myself by now.”

With each word from Liu Heita, Chang Yu’er’s face grew paler, only now realizing how dangerous her situation had been. Thinking that without Gu Pingyuan’s timely intervention, her fate would have been unbearable, Chang Yu’er felt both fearful and grateful.

The room fell silent for a moment. After a while, Liu Heita looked out the window and saw that the caravan was ready to depart. He slapped his forehead.

“Ahem, sister, Master Gu, I’ll step out for a moment.” With that, he turned and left the room.

With Liu Heita gone, Gu Pingyuan felt it inappropriate to stay, so he said, “Miss Chang, since you don’t wish to return, please prepare your belongings. We need to depart soon.” With that, he too turned to leave.

“Brother Gu.” Chang Yu’er’s voice was soft, but Gu Pingyuan froze—in his memory, this was the first time Chang Yu’er had addressed him as “Brother Gu.”

“Oh, Miss Chang, is there something else?” Gu Pingyuan asked, half-turning.

Chang Yu’er took the outer garment that Gu Pingyuan had draped over her earlier from the bed and gently handed it to him.

“The wind is cold and the dew heavy. If you fall ill, what would happen to the caravan?”

“Thank you, Miss Chang.” Gu Pingyuan took the clothes, nodded, and left. Behind him, Chang Yu’er watched his retreating figure with tender eyes, her voice so low only she could hear: “What are you thanking me for? I should be thanking you.”

The attendants led their camels, with Old Qi at the front and Sun Erliang at the rear. This time, Gu Pingyuan deliberately placed Chang Yu’er’s horse in the middle of the procession, while he himself led a camel alongside her.

After traveling four or five li, Chang Yu’er looked around and suddenly said, “Hey, where’s my brother?”

In the chaos of departure, Gu Pingyuan had forgotten about Liu Heita. Now reminded by Chang Yu’er, he looked carefully—indeed, where was Liu Heita? Gu Pingyuan grew anxious, sweat forming on his forehead. His greatest fear was that Liu Heita was harboring anger and had ridden a camel to pursue the “Dong Shi” couple.

“Fire!” Suddenly, more than one attendant pointed toward Gaotou Camp behind them, shouting.

It was the darkest hour before dawn, and the distant fire was clearly visible. The flames grew increasingly fierce, and in the blink of an eye, the fire had engulfed half the sky, casting a red glow on everyone’s faces.

“Hey, isn’t that Master Liu?” The caravan members all stared, and when one attendant exclaimed, everyone noticed Liu Heita catching up on a camel from behind.

Liu Heita approached, reined in his camel, and before speaking, grinned broadly with satisfaction: “Brother Gu, guess where I’ve been?”

Gu Pingyuan was both amused and annoyed—was this even worth guessing? He shook his head somewhat helplessly: “Well, such a fraudulent inn is a menace anyway. It’s good that it’s burned down.”

Departing from Gaotou Camp, they traveled straight ahead through a series of mountain ridges. After three full days of journeying through the mountains, they passed through what was known as “Heavenly Soldiers Guarding the City” mountain and suddenly emerged into an open vista—a vast grassland stretching endlessly before them. With Wolf Mountain and Greater Blue Mountain to the north blocking the cold air, and with geothermal hot springs nearby, though winter had arrived in the Central Plains, this place felt like early autumn.

The caravan attendants cheered, and Liu Heita let out a long howl: “Haha, we’ve finally made it out! These past few days, looking up and seeing only that narrow strip of sky, I was nearly suffocated.”

Gu Pingyuan also felt his chest expand with relief, but Old Qi’s face showed no trace of joy—instead, he sighed: “A short distance ahead lies Black Water Swamp.”

“Old Master Qi, tell us about this Black Water Swamp.” The caravan attendants, including the young Sun Erliang, had never been to Black Water Swamp and were half-fearful, half-curious about this legendary “ghost swamp.”

Old Qi plucked a grass stem and chewed it slowly, his gaze gradually becoming distant. After a long while, he began: “You must all be familiar with Kiakhta. It’s the major town where we Shanxi merchants trade goods with the Mongolians and Russians. Whether it’s tea and timber from the south, or local herbs and grain, everything is transported through Ku-Ku-Khoto Pass to the northern grasslands, all bound for Kiakhta.”

The Shanxi caravan traveled this route year-round, so everyone was familiar with it. But this route had several major drawbacks: first, the journey was long, with no waterways for transport, relying entirely on carts, horses, and camels, causing heavy losses along the way; second, several Mongolian princes in southern Mongolia had set up private checkpoints to collect taxes, squeezing merchants heavily; the third point, which troubled merchants crossing the western passes the most, was that bandits were rampant on this route, ruthlessly killing people and stealing goods. In recent years, caravans couldn’t proceed without more than a dozen skilled escorts—a very heavy expense.

With these three burdens, the western pass route was soaked with the blood and sweat of Shanxi merchants. Yet there was a ready-made shortcut that no one could travel—or rather, no one dared to travel. This route was Black Water Swamp. This marsh, formed by tall grass meadows and spanning a hundred li in all directions, only needed to be crossed to reach a straight path directly to Kiakhta. It was at least ten days shorter than the route through Ku-Ku-Khoto Pass, with peaceful roads and no tax stations. But because Black Water Swamp stood in the way, a perfectly good route had become an impassable barrier for a century.

“Is there really no path through it?” Gu Pingyuan remained skeptical. A hundred li in circumference—could there really be no path at all?

“There are paths, but they change yearly, even monthly, sometimes disappearing within a day. There’s no technique to crossing this marsh—it’s all luck. Sometimes the ground feels soft beneath your feet, yet you can still walk across. Other times, what looks like solid ground is actually just a shell of mud dried by the sun—step in, and nine oxen couldn’t pull you out.” Old Qi knew the marsh well, and his words made the young attendants around him turn pale.

“Old Master, have you crossed this route before?” Gu Pingyuan asked with sudden inspiration.

“I have. Years ago, I came here with an uncle from my clan, but we didn’t make it through. The caravan only traveled one li before three camels sank, along with one attendant. We recognized the difficulty and turned back.”

“If only we had large wooden planks to lay down for dozens of li,” Liu Heita suddenly suggested.

Old Qi snorted derisively: “What good would that do? It would be expensive and laborious, and they’d rot within a month. Besides, people might cross, but when loaded camels step on them, wouldn’t the planks break? In my opinion, this Black Water Swamp was placed here specifically by the King of Hell to collect souls. Once you sink in, you go straight to the netherworld—not even needing a coffin.”

“Old Qi, don’t make it sound so frightening. We’re in broad daylight, but your words make it feel like a chilly wind is blowing,” Liu Heita shivered.

“We’ll see,” Old Qi said calmly, then turned to Gu Pingyuan. “Master Gu, according to custom, before crossing Black Water Swamp, we must make offerings to the water ghosts. I’ve brought all the necessary sacrificial items.”

Gu Pingyuan didn’t really believe in ghosts and spirits, but he knew that long-distance caravans had many customs and taboos. If they didn’t make offerings to the water ghosts, probably not a single attendant would set foot on the path with peace of mind. So he nodded in agreement, and when they reached an open space not far from Black Water Swamp, he assigned this task to Old Qi.

Old Qi approached the matter with great solemnity. First, he apologized to Chang Yu’er, asking her to keep a distance. Having women present during caravan sacrifices was inconvenient and might offend some deity or spirit. Then he directed attendants to unload two boxes to serve as an altar, spread a white cloth, and arranged incense burners, fruits, and sacrificial animals. Notably absent from the altar was the usual wine—it was said that many water ghosts had fallen into water because of drinking, so they despised alcohol, thus no wine was placed on the altar.

When everything was arranged neatly, Old Qi turned and invited Gu Pingyuan to light the first incense stick. Gu Pingyuan firmly declined. But Old Qi insisted on following protocol and wouldn’t overstep his authority, so Gu Pingyuan had to compose himself, straighten his clothes, and respectfully light the first incense. Next came Liu Heita, as the second owner of this caravan, followed by Old Qi, Sun Erliang, and then the attendants according to their rank in the caravan.

Finally, Old Qi closed his eyes tightly and recited the offering words: “With feet on solid ground and heart unafraid, we enter the South Heaven Gate. Water ghosts, accept our offerings and retreat, with single mind we walk in daylight.” After finishing, two strong attendants gathered the offerings in the white cloth and dumped them all into Black Water Swamp.

Gu Pingyuan hadn’t heard what Old Qi was muttering; he was carefully examining Black Water Swamp before him. On the surface, it truly didn’t appear dangerous. The reeds growing on the muddy ground were denser than those on the shore, and apart from grass, not even a small tree could be seen in the marsh. Bubbles occasionally rose to the surface, as if some living creature within was exhaling.

While Gu Pingyuan was surveying Black Water Swamp, an old farmer about the same age as Old Qi approached from a small path. He carried a load of grass on his shoulder and had a short sickle tucked in his waist—apparently a local grass-cutter.

The old farmer was startled at the scene before him. Old Qi hurried forward to greet him with a smile: “Brother, are you well?”

“Oh, yes, thank you kindly.” The old farmer began to understand and tentatively asked, “Are you planning to cross Black Water Swamp?”

“Yes, we hope you can advise us on which way is safest to cross?” This was exactly what Old Qi wanted to ask.

“Well…” The old farmer’s mouth twitched as he hesitated in silence.

Seeing this, Old Qi quickly took ten copper coins from his pocket and placed them in the old farmer’s hand: “A small token for tea, brother.”

“Oh my!” The old farmer became flustered, hurriedly trying to refuse, then asked, “It’s not that I won’t tell you after taking this… but first, let me ask: where are you coming from?”

“We’re a merchant caravan from Taiyuan Prefecture, heading to the northern grasslands.”

“No wonder. I could tell you weren’t merchants from nearby counties. Local merchants wouldn’t attempt to cross Black Water Swamp this year.”

Gu Pingyuan heard something implied in the old farmer’s words and stepped forward with a bow: “Elder, what’s special about ‘this year’?”

Seeing Gu Pingyuan’s refined manner and distinguished appearance, the old farmer hurriedly returned the greeting: “There’s been so much rain this year. In previous years, though Black Water Swamp was difficult to cross, those who weren’t afraid of death could still attempt it. This year is different—what was once merely mud has become a mud soup, with nowhere to set foot.” He pointed to a spot not far ahead: “Take the edge of the swamp, for instance. In previous years, stepping on it would cause a slight wobble at most. This year? First step swallows your foot, second step takes your ankle, third step consumes your calf—who would have the enormous courage to venture in?”

No one had expected Black Water Swamp to be in such a condition. It wasn’t merely more difficult—it was practically impossible. Fear involuntarily appeared in the eyes of all the attendants. Old Qi, with his extensive experience, waited until the old farmer had left before saying to the dazed Gu Pingyuan: “Master Gu, these country folk sometimes never travel beyond two li from their village in their entire lives. You needn’t believe everything he says. Let’s go forward a bit more and see—perhaps we’ll find a way through.”

But the old farmer’s words proved true.

The caravan traveled along the edge of the swamp for two hours, seeing nothing but mud and thin slurry—truly nowhere to set foot. As darkness approached, Old Qi had no choice but to have the attendants hold the camels and set up tents on the spot.

That night, everyone in the caravan was preoccupied with worry, with no appetite for food or tea. Many simply went to bed with heavy hearts. Everyone understood that a decision about the caravan’s next move would have to be made early the next morning, with returning the way they came being the most likely option. With the goods owner and managers bearing the responsibility, the attendants were content to sleep and rest.

Gu Pingyuan also lay in his tent, but he certainly wasn’t sleeping. He closed his eyes, considering what to do next. After consulting with Old Qi, he fully understood the terrain in this area. Continuing along the swamp would lead to a branch of the Taihang Mountains, with steep, impassable cliffs. Even if there were a path, the caravan couldn’t climb it. Going back would mean heading toward Gansu—an even less feasible option. There wasn’t enough time, and Gansu was notorious for its brutal horse bandits. Without armed escorts, it would be like sending sheep into a tiger’s den.

After considering all options, only crossing Black Water Swamp remained, but rashly venturing in meant certain death. “Is there any foolproof solution?” Gu Pingyuan pondered until his head ached, unconsciously speaking aloud.

“There’s no such thing as a foolproof solution.” Old Qi and Liu Heita entered together—they had been outside the tent for quite some time, and only after hearing Gu Pingyuan’s soliloquy did they come in.

Gu Pingyuan quickly stood up to offer them seats and poured a cup of hot tea for Old Qi. Old Qi took a sip, set the cup aside, and said sincerely: “After these many days, I’ve come to know you as a good friend. And because of this, I have something to say.”

Liu Heita added from the side: “Old Qi has already spoken to me about this, and I find it reasonable. Brother Gu, you should listen too.”

“Of course I should heed the elder’s words,” Gu Pingyuan’s face showed genuine willingness to listen.

“Good, then I’ll presume upon my age.” Old Qi straightened himself. “Master Gu, to be honest, the profit from this venture is indeed substantial—for Xuanji Hall, the caravan, Master Gu, and Master Chang from Taigu. But whether it’s worth risking our lives requires your careful consideration. I’ve spent a lifetime in merchant caravans, seeing countless people make and lose fortunes, but in the end, nothing is more important than one’s life. As the saying goes, ‘As long as the green mountains remain, there will always be firewood to burn.’ Given the current situation, which Master Gu surely understands, forcing our way through Black Water Swamp is a death sentence—there can be no good outcome. When that happens, Master Gu will lose his life, and the caravan will have to slink back in disgrace. Rather than that, wouldn’t it be better for Master Gu not to take this risk, and for all of us to return to Taiyuan together?”

Gu Pingyuan silently shook his head. Old Qi continued: “I know Master Gu is concerned about the losses. Let’s all share the burden. I can speak for the caravan—for this journey, we’ll only charge the usual travel fee from Taiyuan to Black Water Swamp. As for that thousand taels, let’s pretend we never heard of it. We can’t force Master Gu to lead the way when we know it’s impassable.”

“Old Qi, you’re really something.” Liu Heita gave a thumbs up.

“That’s friendship. Camels move through the great desert with one heart, but if people lack unity and only think of their own profit, aren’t they worse than beasts?”

Gu Pingyuan’s mind was in turmoil. He stood up and cupped his hands: “Old Master, I fully understand your kindness, but I bear too great a responsibility on this journey. Please allow me some time to think.”

Liu Heita was about to persuade him further, but Old Qi, worldly-wise, knew that Gu Pingyuan couldn’t decide immediately. He waved his hand: “Let Master Gu be alone for a while. I believe he’ll understand what I’ve said.” Lifting the tent flap, he added before leaving: “Man’s calculations can’t match heaven’s plans. If heaven doesn’t help, don’t think of challenging the heavens.”

Gu Pingyuan sat down again, mulling over Old Qi’s words and carefully considering the implications.

If the caravan turned back to Taiyuan, that would be simple, but he would have betrayed Manager Wu of Xuanji Hall. Over ten thousand jin of medicinal herbs would surely rot away, ultimately leading to dismissal and compensation.

Chang Si’s situation would be even worse. He had agreed to pay the caravan’s travel fees and was already in debt. At his advanced age, having no home, no means of supporting himself, how would he manage with his two children?

As for the caravan, having departed Taiyuan with such joy, returning in disgrace would make them the laughingstock of the entire city, with no one willing to listen to explanations. Old Qi was essentially trading a lifetime of reputation to save Gu Pingyuan’s life—such profound friendship was difficult to accept lightly.

Lastly, regarding himself, he could certainly grit his teeth, disregard everything, and simply leave—return to Huizhou and be done with it. Even now, in the dark of night, he could slip away, pretending he had never come to Shanxi, never met Chang Si or Manager Wu. But in the future, when the memory returned in midnight dreams, he would forever feel inner shame, making life itself rather tasteless.

After much thought, crossing Black Water Swamp remained the only option, but it seemed like a dead end. Gu Pingyuan wasn’t a reckless man who would blindly persist on one path. He repeatedly pondered how to find life in the midst of death, thinking until the third watch of the night, yet couldn’t devise a single plan.

He gathered his wits and noticed that the candle had gone out without his realizing it, causing him to laugh ruefully at himself. He lit a new candle and found half-singed insects around the extinguished one. He sighed quietly—would he be like that moth drawn to the flame tomorrow?

He didn’t sleep, and in the adjacent tent, Chang Yu’er also sat awake. Through the tent wall, she had been watching the candlelight from Gu Pingyuan’s side. When the candle went out, she felt her eyes sting, realizing she had been staring lost in thought for an unknown duration. Chang Yu’er couldn’t understand her own feelings. From her family’s perspective, she naturally hoped Gu Pingyuan could find a way through, which would save the Chang family. But from a young woman’s perspective, Gu Pingyuan had saved her virtue, and she didn’t want him to risk his life at all. With these conflicting thoughts, Chang Yu’er listened to the howling wind all night without closing her eyes.

That night, even Liu Heita, who normally fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow, tossed and turned. Though rough by nature, he wasn’t heartless, knowing his father’s livelihood and life depended on the caravan, and he silently made his own calculations. Chang Si had raised him, so even if Gu Pingyuan decided not to cross Black Water Swamp tomorrow, he couldn’t refuse to try. He would risk his life to find a path through. If heaven truly was blind and he sank after a few steps, it would be a life sacrificed in gratitude to his adoptive father. Having decided this, he felt much better and finally dozed off as dawn approached.

Just as he was about to enter dreamland, Liu Heita felt someone shaking him, shouting: “Master Liu, wake up, something’s happened!”

Liu Heita’s heart flipped—he hadn’t been in deep sleep anyway—and immediately rolled up and rose. Opening his eyes, he saw Old Qi and Sun Erliang, both wearing the same expression, staring at him as if they’d seen a ghost.

Before Liu Heita could ask, Old Qi said: “Master Gu is gone.”

Liu Heita’s heart chilled. After a long while, he asked with difficulty: “Did he run away?”

Though he was reluctant to make this guess, running away would be understandable when faced with a life-or-death situation and such a difficult dilemma. As the saying goes, “Throughout history, only death is truly difficult.” At such critical moments, people who simply walk away are not uncommon.

Unexpectedly, Old Qi shook his head and handed over a slip of paper. The ink was still wet, evidently hastily written, with half-regular, half-cursive script forming a seven-character poem: “A sparrow spends life pecking among grass, dying uselessly on a kang mat. All say man’s strength cannot overcome heaven, today I defy fate and enter the ghost gate.”

The poem was quite straightforward, and Liu Heita understood it immediately, crying out: “Brother Gu has gone to attempt Black Water Swamp!”

Old Qi’s expression was extremely grave as he pointed to the bottom of the paper. Liu Heita then noticed a line of small script below: “The caravan should follow the candle’s light. If the candle extinguishes, turn back as the man is dead.”

Liu Heita suddenly flung open the tent flap and rushed out, striding to the edge of the swamp. Dawn was breaking, and a thin mist had risen along the shore. Through the mist, deep in the swamp, a faint light was visible—undoubtedly Gu Pingyuan waiting.

“Brother Gu, Brother Gu, come back first, let’s discuss this!” Liu Heita jumped in frustration, shouting loudly. Seeing that Gu Pingyuan ignored him, he prepared to charge into Black Water Swamp.

Old Qi grabbed him: “Wait, Master Liu. In the current situation, if you also enter the swamp, what about the caravan? You need to make a decision. Though I’m the head attendant, you’re the goods owner. With Master Gu gone, everything is under your command. Should the caravan enter Black Water Swamp or not?”

“Enter! Enter!” Liu Heita was so anxious his voice cracked. “If Brother Gu dares to risk his life, are we cowards? Old Qi, don’t forget, he’s an outsider—don’t let people laugh at us Shanxi men.”

“Alright, that’s what I wanted to hear! Attendants, pack up and enter Black Water Swamp!” Old Qi said no more, calling to the attendants to load the goods onto the camels and drive them into Black Water Swamp. Amid the hustle, Liu Heita instructed Chang Yu’er to stay at the very back.

Upon entering Black Water Swamp, a cold air immediately rose from the ground, causing everyone to shiver. Walking in the marsh felt like having no roots underfoot—each step was unsteady, like walking on deep snow, requiring tremendous effort to pull one’s leg out. Even the camels sensed the danger, shaking their heads, unwilling to advance. The camel drivers exerted herculean efforts, whipping and coaxing them before the camels would move.

The caravan had originally been led by Old Qi, but now Liu Heita forcibly took a camel and walked at the very front, with Old Qi following behind. This was everyone’s first time in Black Water Swamp, and even the experienced Old Qi felt uneasy, muttering as he walked: “This hellish path—it’s amazing that Master Gu dared to walk so far alone.”

“Do I need you to tell me that?” Liu Heita didn’t look back. He repeatedly called out to Gu Pingyuan, but Gu Pingyuan paid no attention. Seeing the caravan enter the swamp, he continued forward. In the swamp, one couldn’t run or jump; everyone moved at the same pace. As long as Gu Pingyuan didn’t stop, the distance between him and the caravan remained constant. After shouting for a while without response, Liu Heita fell silent and said to Old Qi: “I now have a hundred and twenty percent respect for him. He may look scholarly and weak, but his courage is truly greater than the heavens.”

“Still, he’s too rash. Even if determined to proceed, he could have discussed it with us,” Old Qi said.

“What’s there to discuss? You said yourself, Old Qi, that crossing this mud has no technique—it’s all luck. That means either close your eyes and walk forward, or turn back with your bags. No matter how much you think about it, there’s no solution except to force through. So in my opinion, Brother Gu made up his mind that he must cross, and there was no need to discuss with anyone. After all, it’s his own life, and he can make his own decisions.”

“He’s fulfilling his promise and serving loyally. Such a young man—truly remarkable, truly remarkable.” Old Qi stroked his beard, nodding continuously.

The note Gu Pingyuan left said the caravan should follow the candle’s light, but as daylight brightened, his figure could be clearly seen more than ten zhang away, making the candle unnecessary. Liu Heita tried several times to speed up and catch up, but the muddy swamp acted like a hobble—he couldn’t move any faster, cursing incessantly in frustration.

Old Qi didn’t forget his responsibility and kept checking his compass. When he saw Gu Pingyuan’s position shift, he called out a warning. The caravan had now formed a straight line, stretched very long, slowly following Gu Pingyuan northward.

By nearly noon, with the sun directly overhead, the marsh bubbled under the heat, creating a layer of haze along the ground. Old Qi, fearing miasma, instructed the attendants to take out the anti-miasma pills they carried and keep them in their mouths. Gu Pingyuan, walking ahead, was well-prepared in his pack with medicines, food, and water.

They had now reached the deepest part of the swamp, where the grass gradually thinned. Looking around, mud and water extended in all directions, making everyone anxious. A camel that had gone into heat early became irritable and, while walking, suddenly broke free from its handler and darted sideways.

The young attendant was alarmed and rushed a few steps to catch up. Old Qi, hearing the commotion behind, looked back in shock and immediately shouted: “Don’t chase it, don’t chase it under any circumstances!”

According to caravan rules, losing a camel and cargo required compensation. The young attendant heard Old Qi’s words and hesitated, but seeing the camel couldn’t move quickly in the marsh and was only a few steps ahead, he couldn’t bear to let it go. So he boldly waded a few more steps forward.

Old Qi was so anxious he slapped his thigh, shouting repeatedly: “Pull him back!”

Everyone heard these words, but each person was leading a camel, and even if they wanted to help, they dared not let go of the reins.

In that moment of collective hesitation, the runaway camel suddenly softened at all four hooves, then its body pitched forward. In the blink of an eye, more than half its body had sunk into the marsh.

The attendant who followed, perhaps blinded by urgency, actually tried to pull the camel out with his hands. By the time he came to his senses, the mud had already reached his waist. He screamed for help, but who dared go to his rescue now? Besides, there simply wasn’t time. The attendant’s screams continued, and in the time it takes to smoke a pipe, the camel sank first, creating a whirlpool in the mud that pulled the attendant in, head to toe. A moment later, the mud settled, leaving no trace on the surface. The swamp was quiet again, as if this terrible tragedy had never occurred.

Everyone in the caravan had witnessed this scene clearly, and they all froze like wooden chickens, staring dumbfounded at the spot where the mud had swallowed a man and a camel. That place looked no different from the path the caravan was now traveling—who would have thought it concealed a deadly trap below?

After a long silence, Old Qi sighed deeply: “This was fated. Nothing could be done.”

Liu Heita had previously only heard how dangerous Black Water Swamp was; now he had seen its power firsthand. Rubbing his head and looking at Gu Pingyuan, still scouting ahead, he couldn’t help but exclaim: “Mother of mine, Brother Gu has been walking for half a day and still stands above—his luck is truly remarkable.”

Old Qi nodded repeatedly: “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Look at how steadily he walks, step by step, yet any minute could be his last. But since he’s made it this far without incident, he must truly be blessed with good fortune. Perhaps our caravan can break through by following him.”

“If that’s the case, what are we waiting for? Everyone, march on!” Liu Heita waved his hand.

When someone in the caravan died, custom dictated either bringing back the body or erecting a mound on the spot. But in the current situation, neither method was possible—they could only wait to report the tragic news upon returning to Taiyuan.

After witnessing this danger firsthand, every attendant in the caravan realized that mortal peril surrounded them. Earlier, some had chatted idly across their camels, but now, aware of their predicament, the entire caravan fell silent except for the camels’ heavy breathing. Everyone focused on the footprints ahead, fearing that one wrong step would bring disaster.

When Gu Pingyuan looked back, he too witnessed the distant tragedy but was powerless to help. To say he wasn’t secretly terrified would be self-deception, but at this point, there was no question of retreat—even if the next step led to a bottomless abyss, he had to take it.

One must never stop moving when crossing Black Water Swamp. Even ground that seems safe now might become a bottomless pit after an hour or two, so it was necessary to walk continuously for a day and night without rest. Old Qi understood this principle well and, summoning his spirit, shouted to those behind: “Men, put in more effort, quicken your pace, keep up!”

Actually, there was no need for him to say this—everyone was already being extremely careful. Step after step, they continued from midday until sunset, when Gu Pingyuan suddenly stopped moving ahead.

At first, Liu Heita and Old Qi didn’t notice, but once they approached and realized, their reactions were completely different.

Liu Heita was delighted, believing that Gu Pingyuan must have seen the end of Black Water Swamp and therefore stopped. So he shouted joyfully: “Brother Gu, are we almost out?”

Old Qi knew better. Though he had never crossed Black Water Swamp, judging by the distance and their pace, they wouldn’t see the edge of the marsh until dawn the next day. So he was thinking of something else entirely and called out: “Master Gu, are you stuck?”

Gu Pingyuan neither turned back nor responded. With his vast experience, Old Qi knew his guess was correct. Gu Pingyuan was likely too tense to hear anything, focusing entirely on finding a way to free himself.

It appeared he wasn’t stuck deeply, and he hadn’t stepped into the kind of mud that would swallow him instantly—there was still hope. Old Qi ordered the caravan to stop, cupped his hands, and shouted: “Master Gu, listen to me. No matter which leg is stuck, bend your knee slowly and lie down.”

Fearing Gu Pingyuan couldn’t hear clearly, Liu Heita shouted each instruction after Old Qi. Thus, even the rearmost attendants knew that Master Gu, who was scouting ahead, was stuck in the mud. Those who could see him stared without blinking; those who couldn’t held their breath and silently prayed.

Gu Pingyuan followed the instructions, slowly lying down on the muddy ground. Old Qi continued: “Master Gu, now comes the crucial part. Don’t exert force with any other part of your body. Wherever you’re stuck, focus your strength there, pulling up bit by bit. You should be able to free yourself.”

After Liu Heita echoed these words, he slapped his hands together and roared: “Why go to all that trouble? I’ll go pull Brother Gu out!” He started to move forward, but Old Qi extended his arm to stop him. “Hold on. Pull him out? Even with your strength, are you stronger than three oxen? I’ve heard about someone who got stuck like this before. The caravan unloaded three ox carts and used three oxen to pull him out. Guess what happened? The perfectly healthy man—when they pulled him out, his two legs remained in Black Water Swamp. It was like being torn apart by five horses.”

Liu Heita drew in a sharp breath, looking at the increasingly dim marsh before him, and muttered: “Ghost… ghost swamp!”

“That’s right.” Having convinced Liu Heita, Old Qi no longer paid him attention and called out again: “Master Gu, don’t be anxious—there’s no rushing this. You can only proceed bit by bit.”

Gu Pingyuan remained silent throughout, but it was evident he was genuinely following Old Qi’s guidance to free himself. The caravan was completely quiet, with everyone burning with anxiety, for the fate of the entire caravan rested in Gu Pingyuan’s hands.

“What’s happening?” Chang Yu’er’s voice sounded beside Liu Heita. He turned to see his sister on horseback, looking toward Gu Pingyuan.

Liu Heita was startled: “Sister, didn’t I tell you to stay at the back? Why did you come to the front? Go back quickly, it’s… it’s dangerous.”

Chang Yu’er was well aware of the danger. She also knew that showing such concern for Gu Pingyuan in front of so many people lacked a maiden’s propriety, but she simply couldn’t help it. Her heart burned with anxiety; if not for the fear that hasty action might make matters worse, she would have urged her horse to Gu Pingyuan’s side. So despite Liu Heita’s words, Chang Yu’er firmly refused to retreat, and Liu Heita was helpless to make her.

Liu Heita was the most impatient among them. After a short while, seeing no progress from Gu Pingyuan, he rubbed his palms together, wanting to go help. Only when Old Qi issued a serious warning—”You mustn’t go; if you do, Master Gu’s life will be lost”—did he desist. Still, he shook his large head, eyes wide as copper bells, staring without blinking.

But staring was useless. After half an hour, Gu Pingyuan had only managed to pull his knee-deep stuck leg out by half an inch—a detail impossible to see from several zhang away. Yet this half inch marked the passing of the critical life-or-death moment, making subsequent efforts easier. Just as dusk deepened to the point where Gu Pingyuan’s figure was barely visible, he was finally seen rolling his body sideways several meters, escaping the danger.

At this point, everyone released a great sigh of relief. Liu Heita wiped the sweat from his forehead, Old Qi couldn’t stop patting his chest, and Chang Yu’er closed her eyes as tears fell. All shared the same thought: “Gu Pingyuan truly has a grand fate!”

Just as Old Qi was about to call out, they saw Gu Pingyuan massaging the leg that had been stuck, then straightening up and standing. He took out a flint, lit a candle, looked back at the caravan, judged the direction, and continued forward with difficulty.

“This… this won’t do.” Liu Heita had already decided in his heart that he would scout the path ahead from now on. Seeing Gu Pingyuan still moving forward, he rushed to stop him but was himself stopped by Old Qi.

“Let it be. Master Gu is determined to make it through Black Water Swamp. If you try to replace him, he certainly won’t allow it. Better to fulfill his wish.”

Liu Heita considered this and knew Old Qi spoke the truth, so he could only silently acquiesce.

As long as the candle ahead didn’t extinguish, the caravan could continue following its light. They walked from sunset at the You hour until moonset and starfall at the Yin hour. Just as the edge of the sky began to whiten, a heavy fog suddenly rose in the swamp. As the fog ascended, before long, Gu Pingyuan’s candle suddenly went out without a sound.

This immediately alarmed the caravan. Old Qi and Liu Heita shouted loudly, but Gu Pingyuan gave no response whatsoever.

“Is he stuck again?” Though brave, even Liu Heita didn’t dare venture blindly into the fog at this moment. He only scratched his head and ears in anxiety.

“That shouldn’t be the case. Unless he encountered the legendary ‘ghost bubble,’ how could he not call out at all?” Though resourceful, Old Qi could only stop in the thick fog. The “death-defying lanterns” hanging on the camels’ necks illuminated just over a zhang ahead—beyond that, no one knew the situation.

“What should we do?” After waiting for some time, Liu Heita finally couldn’t help but ask.

His question was easy, but Old Qi found answering difficult due to the heavy responsibility. Beneath their feet lay deadly ground, and ahead they couldn’t see clearly—truly a dilemma of advancing or retreating. Old Qi felt anxious; if Gu Pingyuan had met with disaster, it meant great danger lay within ten zhang. The caravan had traveled for a day and night and would struggle to return. If they stubbornly pushed forward, not only could they not discern the direction, but the place of Gu Pingyuan’s demise might become their burial ground as well.

“Say something,” Liu Heita urged again.

Old Qi steeled himself: “Let’s go. Like charging through a bramble fence—if we break through, we live; if not, we accept our fate.”

Unexpectedly, just as he finished speaking, the candle ahead miraculously lit up again. Old Qi, as if seeing a savior and fearing the candle might extinguish again, shouted and led the caravan forward.

Liu Heita, leading his camel at the front, walked about five or six zhang when he suddenly felt something wrong underfoot. His body pitched forward and he fell.

Old Qi, watching clearly from behind, was horrified. Just as he froze in surprise, Liu Heita sprang up like a carp leaping and shouted: “We’ve made it! We’ve made it! We’re out!”

Old Qi was startled but quickly understood—after walking in mud for a day and night, Liu Heita had momentarily lost his balance upon encountering solid ground.

“The caravan has emerged from Black Water Swamp.” This news spread from the lead to the last camel almost instantly, causing immediate excitement throughout the caravan. By now, the first dozen or so camels had reached shore, but the caravan was long. With his extensive experience, Old Qi knew the rear of the caravan still couldn’t afford to be careless, so he personally went to guard the back. Only when the last camel had also reached shore could they truly consider the mission accomplished—having crossed Black Water Swamp, which no one had dared attempt for decades.

“Heaven protect us.” “Buddha bless us.” Dozens of attendants knelt on the shore, thanking the heavens. As their excitement subsided, Old Qi and Liu Heita simultaneously thought of the same question: “Where is Gu Pingyuan?”

The candle light was still visible, not far ahead on a small mound. Liu and Qi led the attendants there to find Gu Pingyuan kneeling on the ground, clutching the almost-spent white candle with a death grip, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Liu Heita rushed over and embraced Gu Pingyuan tightly: “Brother Gu, we made it through! We made it!”

Gu Pingyuan’s eyes were blurry. He smiled and nodded, too choked with emotion to speak. Attendants gathered around, taking him from Liu Heita’s arms, tossing him high in the air and catching him securely, everyone’s face beaming with the joy of survival. Chang Yu’er, watching from afar on the shore, saw Gu Pingyuan covered in mud and utterly exhausted, her eyes brimming with tears.

By breaking through Black Water Swamp, the caravan had saved a full ten days of travel. Old Qi guaranteed that no difficult roads lay ahead. After the ordeal of a day and night, the entire caravan was exhausted, so they set up camp on the shore to rest.

That night, bonfires blazed by Black Water Swamp. The attendants drove the camels to the perimeter of the camp, staking them to serve as windbreaks. Except for those on night watch, everyone sat around the bonfires. Normally, merchant caravans strictly prohibited drinking, but tonight Old Qi temporarily waived that rule.

“Tonight, everyone drink to their heart’s content. First, to celebrate the caravan’s emergence from Black Water Swamp; second, to calm Master Gu’s nerves. This was truly a brush with death, all thanks to Master Gu’s courage and careful judgment. Come, I toast Master Gu.” Old Qi raised his cup to Gu Pingyuan beside him.

Gu Pingyuan quickly rose, walked to the center of the group, and held his cup high.

“Thank you for your praise, Old Master Qi. But this successful crossing wasn’t just my doing—it was the achievement of the entire caravan, young and old. As Old Master Qi said, crossing Black Water Swamp depends entirely on luck. I stumbled through by chance, and if you all hadn’t trusted me, we couldn’t have succeeded. With this cup from Old Master Qi, I toast all my brothers in the caravan.”

With that, Gu Pingyuan tilted his head back and drained the cup cleanly. Everyone cheered and drank their cups as well.

Then Gu Pingyuan refilled his cup, his expression changing as he lowered his voice slightly: “This second cup, I dedicate to our brother who remains in Black Water Swamp. May his spirit rest in peace.” He turned to Liu Heita, “Brother, when we return to Taiyuan, remind me—no matter how much silver I earn from this journey, I’ll set aside two-tenths for that brother’s family.”

Liu Heita agreed. The caravan attendants looked at each other, exchanging glances, their astonishment evident. A western-route caravan attendant’s life was considered cheap; when someone died and their body was lost, apart from a coffin and ten taels of silver as family compensation, any additional amount depended entirely on the person’s relationships within the caravan—relying on everyone “chipping in.” Now the “big boss” was showing such generosity, truly unprecedented. With this one gesture, Gu Pingyuan completely won the hearts of the entire caravan.

Liu Heita, uncomfortable with such solemnity, grinned widely: “Brother Gu, I see you’re usually extremely steady and cautious. How did you rush so recklessly into the marsh this time without even discussing it? Did you have some certainty?”

This was what everyone wanted to ask, so all fell silent to hear Gu Pingyuan’s answer. Gu Pingyuan smiled somewhat helplessly: “Certainty, no. But a source of support—yes, I suppose I had one.”

Liu Heita widened his eyes: “Oh, what support?”

Gu Pingyuan pointed upward. Liu Heita followed his gesture but saw only a sky full of stars. Scratching his head, he said: “Brother Gu, stop being mysterious.”

Gu Pingyuan said: “My support was heaven itself. Early yesterday morning, I went to the edge of Black Water Swamp with a candle and made a wish.”

“Ha,” Liu Heita joked, “Brother Gu is a scholar—how do you also believe in gods and ghosts?”

“Don’t interrupt.” Sun Erliang, eager to learn how to cross Black Water Swamp, was listening with rapt attention.

Gu Pingyuan smiled: “I told myself, if after walking a hundred steps, the candle flame hadn’t been extinguished by the wind, then no matter the dangers, I would certainly continue. If the candle went out, that would be heaven’s warning, and then…”

Gu Pingyuan didn’t continue, but everyone understood clearly—if heaven didn’t help, even with the greatest skills, one would still sink into this marsh that devours people without leaving bones.

“Master Gu is truly blessed, having heaven’s protection. I’m sure our business venture will be thrilling but safe.” Old Qi stroked his few whiskers, nodding continuously.

“Actually, doing this reminded me of a story from beyond the pass.” Having crossed Black Water Swamp, a great burden had lifted from Gu Pingyuan’s heart, and tonight he was in high spirits for conversation.

This story was told to him by a merchant from the Yingkou ginseng shop during his exile beyond the pass. The best wild ginseng grows on Changbai Mountain—the more remote and uninhabited the mountain corner, the more likely to find treasure ginseng weighing “seven liang is ginseng, eight liang is treasure.” But wilderness naturally harbors dangers; not to mention a single bear that could annihilate a team of ginseng hunters, plus avalanches and flash floods. Almost no old ginseng hunter was without some disability.

In the early winter of that year, a team of ginseng hunters discovered a large-leaf ginseng at the bottom of a cliff near the Moshilazi area by Korea. According to one hunter who was present: “When I saw that ginseng, my heart started pounding. Those leaves, those fruits—one glance told me the ginseng beneath must weigh at least seven or eight liang.”

They had seen it, and it was truly tempting, but no one dared dig it up. The reason was simple: above the ginseng, an avalanche a few days earlier had pushed a large rock to the edge of the cliff. It wobbled precariously, threatening to fall at any moment. To dig up ginseng properly, one must excavate a large hole to ensure no roots are broken, ensuring the ginseng is extracted intact—a task requiring at least three days. But the stone above swayed with the merest breeze, and if it fell, it would crush both person and ginseng flat.

Finally, a fearless young man tied a red string to the ginseng, then stood up, placed his hands on his hips, and shouted loudly. The sound was tremendous, echoing through the valley like thunder. The stone above the ginseng shook three times but didn’t fall. So the young man began digging for the ginseng while the other hunters watched from several zhang away, not daring to approach and help.

Remarkably, three days later, the young man returned, happily cradling a huge ginseng. As soon as he left, the stone fell, creating a crater half a person deep in the ground.

The ginseng the young man had gambled his life for weighed eight and a half liang and sold for three thousand taels of silver at the Yingkou ginseng shop—a substantial fortune. Later, when someone asked the young man why he had shouted, he replied: “If I didn’t have the fortune to get rich, might as well let the stone roll down and crush me early, saving me from fear and worry. Since the stone didn’t fall, heaven was granting me the ginseng. For those three days, I wasn’t afraid at all.”

Having finished the story, Gu Pingyuan raised his cup and took a sip: “Different situations, same principle. Crossing Black Water Swamp, I wasn’t afraid at all.”

“Master Gu’s story is interesting. As the saying goes, ‘Fortune favors the bold.’ If you’re willing to risk your life, even immortals must yield somewhat.” Old Qi joined him with a cup.

The attendants whispered among themselves, clearly moved by Gu Pingyuan’s story and personal example.

As Gu Pingyuan was speaking with Old Qi, he glimpsed Chang Yu’er standing at a distance from the bonfire, looking his way. He excused himself and rose to approach her. Chang Yu’er had only wanted to quietly observe Gu Pingyuan, not expecting him to come over. Inexplicably flustered, she turned and entered her tent. Gu Pingyuan looked at her retreating figure and shook his head. He had thought that crossing Black Water Swamp would be more difficult for a woman than for a man and wanted to comfort her with a few words. Now, seeing her turn and leave, he truly couldn’t fathom her thoughts.

That night, everyone drank and talked until deep into the night before dispersing contentedly to their tents to rest.